The Woman Who Lied(40)

‘I hope you don’t think I’d do this,’ he says quickly. Defensively.

‘No, of course not.’

‘Who have you sent it to?’

She thinks back. It’s never very many people at the beginning. ‘I have a few early readers, who include my friend Louise …’

‘The detective from this morning?’

‘Yes. And Ottilie. Elliot, obviously, you, Elliot’s dad Trevor. My parents … with this new one anyway after my mum’s spiky comment at my launch.’

‘Okay. Who else? I did pass it on to Kristin. I hope that’s okay.’

‘Fine. I thought you would anyway. Jasmine wants to read it too.’

‘And the hoax call? Jesus.’ He exhales slowly.

‘The hoax call isn’t in the book but the other stuff is. I need to see the letter Jake received. It’s obviously from the same person who made the hoax call to me.’

‘I can’t believe someone rang you pretending to be from the hospital. That’s just sick.’ He stands up. ‘I need to get back – Kristin’s going to be pissed off with me. Will you be okay? I can stay if you like, until Elliot gets back.’

‘Probably not a great idea.’

He grins and thrusts his hands into the pockets of his jeans. With his blond hair and Adidas trainers he resembles the student she’d met all those years ago. ‘I’m never going to win him over, am I?’

She laughs. ‘Have you ever tried?’ She walks with him to the door. ‘It doesn’t matter anyway. It’s not like we’re suddenly going to start having cosy foursomes out and about.’

‘True.’

She opens the door to the porch. ‘How are things anyway? You haven’t … well, you know …’

He shakes his head. ‘No. I haven’t. I’ve been a good boy, I promise. I’ve stayed away from Connie.’

So that’s her name. ‘I’m glad. And divorce is expensive, you know that.’

‘Yes, I bloody well do.’ He laughs. He bends down and kisses her briefly on the cheek. ‘Say goodbye to Jas for me and tell her she’s grounded.’

‘Oh, she’s definitely grounded.’

She watches him walk down the driveway to where his car is parked behind hers. Then she stands in the porch, next to Elliot’s ugly bike, and calls DC Haddock.

An hour later Jasmine is sitting on the sofa, pale and smelling of Emilia’s White Company body wash. She’s dressed in clean high-waisted jeans and a red hoodie. She looks young without her usual eye make-up, her hair hanging in tendrils over her shoulders. Her bare feet are crossed and she’s picking at her fingernails, rather than looking at her mother.

‘I’m glad you’re safe, but I’m still shocked that you lied to me,’ says Emilia.

‘I’m really sorry,’ she mumbles, her eyes shining with tears. ‘We just wanted to be part of the popular group for once.’

‘I understand that. I do,’ says Emilia, gently. ‘But that doesn’t mean lying to me or your dad. If you’d explained it all to us we could have come to some sort of arrangement –’

‘Like what?’ Jasmine sniffs. ‘You wouldn’t have let me go!’

‘Maybe we could have gone too. Been in the vicinity, perhaps, to make sure you were okay.’

‘You never said that at the time.’

Emilia pushes down her guilt. ‘I know. And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just said no without hearing you out. But next time, please, explain how you’re feeling and then your dad and I will do whatever we can to make it possible. But don’t lie to us again.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she mutters, biting the skin at her fingernail.

‘And the tickets?’ she presses. ‘Jake was definitely sent them in the post? Anonymously?’

She nods. ‘Jake and his mates didn’t realize you didn’t know where we were …’ She tails off.

‘I need to see that note. Can you ask Jake for it?’

‘Yes.’ She pulls at the sleeve of her hoodie and stares at her mother for a few moments. ‘I know something odd has been going on around here and that you and Elliot are trying to keep it from me.’

Emilia stands up. ‘It’s nothing. Really.’

Jasmine jumps up from the sofa, her expression dark. ‘You’re always telling me to be honest with you, but you’re not with me!’

She sighs. ‘Okay, but I don’t want you to be overly worried. At the same time just be mindful – and, most importantly, truthful from now on. You have to promise, okay? And not to tell Wilfie. It will only scare him.’

‘I promise,’ says Jasmine, in a small voice. She sits down again, and Emilia tells her everything.

Emilia is emptying the dishwasher and trying to keep herself distracted when Elliot and Wilfie return from the park, all pink cheeks and wind-blown hair.

‘I stopped Dad’s goal,’ cries Wilfie, excitedly, still clutching a grubby football.

Elliot grins. ‘Yeah, you did great, bud.’

Wilfie punches the air and runs back out of the room with the football tucked under his arm. Elliot laughs. ‘God, I’m knackered. You do know our eight-year-old runs rings around me?’